Finding Her Roots
by Nebulad
Summary: Solas stood and watched the darkness churn in front of him, beyond the camp. "Keeping the Dread Wolf company?" she asked with a smile. He snorted. "You could say that, I suppose."


The Red Hart (named Clip-Clop, though Dorian made a face every time the Inquisitor mentioned it) seemed to instinctively know the way to where Clan Lavellan was camping, needing little guidance to navigate the rolling green hills that sheltered her people. They were somewhere near Ansburg, and Harding had reported that her clan hadn't moved very far since the Inquisition had gotten off the boat.

The trip across the Waking Sea had been... _trying, _to say the least. On her first trip across, Saevin had spent much of her time asleep in the hold. She'd barely noticed how incessantly the boat rocked or how the rolling waves crashed against the hull to toss it back and forth or how the salt seemed to coat her tongue and stick in her throat after a few days. Cole had been delighted at the change of pace, and she was pretty sure he'd reconciled at least three sailors with their estranged families, while Dorian had suffered the worst from _boredom_, pacing around the deck like something would happen if he made enough rounds. Solas hadn't seemed troubled at all, and kept Saevin company even when she was violently ill over the edge of the damned fragile wooden death-trap.

It was hotter than usual in the Marches as they plodded along, which made Saevin infinitely grateful that she hadn't brought any of her Fereldan armour. The sun beat down on her arms and she could feel herself developing a nasty burn across her shoulders to accompany the freckles that spilled across her skin. She hadn't been under real sun in what... a year? Fereldan sun was hardly a comfort in the waist deep snows.

Solas looked as if he should have been suffering the worst, but he wasn't even sunburned. He had insisted that his regular armour would serve him just fine, so although the Ancient Elvhen jacket should have been roasting him alive, he didn't seem phased by it. Cole had his hat to shade him, if he even felt how hot it had gotten, and Dorian was thoroughly unimpressed with the heat. _Live in Minrathous your whole life and southern heat becomes an oxymoron, _he'd told her, laughing at the way sweat was sliding down her back.

It was further north than Lavellan usually ventured, but the further south the clan went the closer they were to conflict areas- Starkhaven specifically being a point of trouble, especially with the new prince in the throne with a chip on his shoulder. _Devoutly Andrastian too, _Keeper Dashana had written in her last letter, _so we'd rather not test how he feels about the Dalish until we know for certain._ Josephine had reported that the Prince wanted to march on Kirkwall for vengeance against the apostate Anders and potentially all apostates present, so she was glad that they'd only had to stop there for a day to rest. Solas and her had tried to subtly stay out of sight, even though Prince Sebastian had seemed perfectly polite but perhaps slightly... _violent. _He was prone to snapping and asserting ruthless authority in the name of Andraste, which made sitting through his Court like a waking nightmare where everyone around her was a Chantry official and nodding their heads as Andraste condemned a thief to the dungeons. Cole had been beside himself, absolutely miserable until the horses had left the city behind.

As they crested the grassy hill, the aravels finally came into sight along with a cool breeze that almost brought Saevin to tears. The wind broke the stagnant moistness of the air and allowed her to breathe in oxygen for what felt like the first time in hours while she carefully swung herself off of Clip-Clop's back so the poor dear could take a break. He didn't seem grateful- if anything, he was disinterested as he followed her lead down the hill.

Two hunters, Dhiris and Briva, greeted them at the edge of camp. They were lovers and had been hunting together since they were young girls crafting makeshift bows to shoot at squirrels. Dhiris had chopped all her hair off since Saevin had last seen her, and Briva had allowed hers to grow out. "Hold, _shem,"_ Briva warned as Dhiris drew her bow. They were aiming at Cole and Dorian.

"They're with me," Saevin insisted, drawing herself up to her full height and holding her chin up like Dashana had taught her. It didn't put her at much of an advantage- although the two hunters were younger than her, they'd grown drastically taller, with Dhiris almost as tall as Cole- but she hoped invoking the stance of a Keeper would remind them that she was their First.

"And?" Briva stared down at her, and Saevin stepped back. _That... didn't work._ She gnawed her lip, then scowled. She was the _Inquisitor_, and besides that she was still the First of Clan Lavellan. Two tall, bossy hunters wouldn't push her around.

"And you will drop your weapons. I am your First and I vouch for them; they will cause no trouble," she insisted, shifting herself to step in front of her friends. Dhiris spat- never one for too many words, her- and Brivis' face grew dark.

"You show up here with two _shemlen _and a flat-ear and dare to tell us to drop our weapons?" she demanded, pointing one of her daggers threateningly at Saevin. "Our clan's faced some _difficulty _with both groups, but you wouldn't know that, would you Herald? Up in your fancy fortress- how many Chantry shrines does it have? Do you even remember our gods, _seth'lin_?" she continued, advancing.

A harmless spray of ice separated Saevin from Briva suddenly, and marked the entrance of Keeper Dashana. The woman stood as tall and proud as she had when she'd named Saevin her First, though streaks of bright silver wound through her dark black hair and the lines around her eyes grew deeper and tighter. She still looked down her long, straight nose with her dark black eyes, and Sae's heart clenched and sped up. The First bowed low, her hands shaking. "No, _da'len,"_ the Keeper reprimanded, and Saevin straightened up almost immediately, like Dashana's voice served as marionette strings.

"Keeper," she choked, her throat feeling tight. She'd forgotten Dhiris' bow still aimed at Droian's head- Cole, meanwhile, had disappeared somewhere to the side, just in the corner of Saevin's eye- and watched, enchanted, as her Keeper moved forward.

She addressed Briva with a cool look, and within a minute her and Dhiris had bowed and left out towards the plains to scout. The woman who had served as Saevin's mother then turned to the mildly irate Dorian and the definitely irritated Solas. _"Andaran atish'an, _Inquisition. I am sorry for my hunters- we have run into some trouble recently, and they are on edge. I hope you will forgive them for their harshness," she said, nodding.

"It is hardly _us _they attacked," Solas said, anger edging on his tone. Saevin turned to him, then flushed. She should have warned them in advanced that her clan had... mixed feelings about her. _The Inquisition doesn't even know me, _she thought, her stomach heavy. _All this time we've spent together and I've never told them about my clan. _Hell, Solas had been sleeping next to her for weeks now and she'd never mentioned that she was an outsider to him.

"Solas," she reprimanded quietly, shaking her head.

"You would allow them to disrespect you like that?" he asked, gesturing in the general direction the hunters had disappeared in. She scowled.

"It is what it is, let it drop," she hissed, feeling the very tips of her ears burning. She didn't want to be defended in front of the Keeper- she'd wanted to pretend for a while that being the Inquisitor had made her brave and strong, so she wouldn't _need _to be babied anymore.

"Saevin, introduce me to your friends." Dashana always knew when to interrupt, and Sae was grateful for the change in subject as Solas fixed her with a strange and pitying look. She hated that.

She tried to ignore it as she lifted herself out of her protective slouch. "Boys, this is Keeper Dashana Istimaethoriel Lavellan. Keeper, this is Dorian Pavus of Minrathous, a Tevinter Altus." Dorian bowed with a flourish and the Keeper frowned.

_"Da'len..."_ Her voice held that special scolding quality to it, like when Saevin had been learning to write and had instead busied herself with doodling flowers on the parchment. She gritted her teeth, balking at the way the Keeper treated her as a foolish child in front of her friends.

"He is a valuable member of the Inquisition, a gifted mage, a loyal friend, and a Tevinter reformist," Saevin said stubbornly, not meeting Dashana's eyes. "I think I would know by now if he planned to knock me over the head and sell me to slavers."

"You never know," Dorian quipped dryly, "I _am _terribly clever. I could be biding my time."

"You're not helping," she scolded, trying to hide her smile in front of her still scowling Keeper. "Anyway, over there is Cole..." She paused while the young man moved back over to them, shifting restlessly. "He is a spirit of compassion... made flesh, I suppose," she said, deciding to keep it simple. Keeper Dashana took a step back, scowling.

"The spirits are _dangerous, _Saevin, I have told you this-,"

"_Compassion, _Keeper. He helps people and he heals them," she asserted stubbornly.

"His nature may be twisted at will!" she insisted, reaching for her staff. Saevin drew hers as well.

"Cole is himself and I will not allow-," There was a pause, a ripple through the air, and suddenly the Keeper sheathed her staff and looked at Saevin with hers still clutched in her trembling fingers.

_"Da'len?_ You haven't introduced me to your elvhen companion," she said, tilting her head towards Solas. "Why do you have your staff out?" Cole sat in a tree just behind the Keepers head, watching her carefully. She slowed her breathing and put her weapon away, nodding at him briefly before turning back to her Keeper.

"This is Solas-"_ He makes my stomach feel funny when he smiles and sometimes he kisses me like I'm air and he's suffocating. He's shown me things in the Fade that I could never even dream of and is one of the only people I have ever met to make me feel like I wasn't some stumbling fool... _"H-He's the Inquisition's A-Arcane Advisor-r... and..."

"And...?" Saevin felt her ears turn so red they hurt. She didn't _dare _look to see what Solas' expression was, though she could guess by the choked back _wheezing _that Dorian was enjoying himself. She suddenly regretted standing in front of Dhiris' arrow.

"And he speaks fluent Elvish," she blurted. "The whole language. He's a Fade expert and he learned it in the Fade. That's it." She bowed her head and staunchly avoided even turning towards Solas. He had such faith in her intelligence and she didn't want to see the moment when he realized that she was stupid and her questions simply masked her ignorance.

"Does he now?" She sounded as if she didn't believe it, which had the double edge of thinking Saevin was foolish for believing him and not trusting that Solas was telling the truth.

Just like he expected, no doubt.

"Come into the camp, _da'len, _and bring your friends. You can catch up for a little while." Dashana gave her an encouraging smile, then turned and walked soundlessly back into camp. Saevin stood there, feeling like all her energy had drained out into the ground. Dorian walked up and rested his elbow on her shoulder.

"Well, that wasn't so bad! My life was only threatened once- that's a record, you know, even in Tevinter," he said, looking down at her. She didn't move. "Plus there was that _delightful _shade of red you turned when she asked who Solas was-,"

"Enough, Dorian." Solas walked past them both to where Cole was in the tree, and Saevin hurried after him. The young man peered down, though his face was, as usual, almost entirely obscured by his hat.

"Scared and angry- she _told _Saevin a thousand times that the Beyond was not a playground, told her that there was no such thing as a harmless spirit, and what does she do?" Saevin bowed her head, as if Dashana was still there and actually scolding her. _Stop that. _How selfish was she that Cole had been chased away, threatened by her Keeper, and she was worried about herself?

"I'm sorry, Cole. We can try again, if you'd like- we just won't tell her you're a Spirit this time?" She had only sort of predicted this outcome, somehow hopeful that for some reason Dashana would _trust her _with her own power and listen to her for once. It hadn't happened and she worried it had upset Cole.

"If you like," he said, hopping down from the tree. She smiled.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "They're scared of what they don't understand and it does them no credit to lash out at you." Solas snorted, and she flushed darkly, finally turning to face him properly. "I'm also... sorry about... all of this..." _I'm sorry I messed it up so badly and I'm sorry she did that stupid condescending Dalish thing and I'm sorry you got called a flat-ear not five minutes into this. _"Suffice to say, this is... not how I envisioned this going."

"Oh, but you were doing so well! I especially liked the part where you were caught between stammering out an introduction for your man there and bowing to try and hide how hard you were blushing," Dorian piped up. She glared at him. "Don't give me that look. You're the Inquisitor, I'm only wondering why you aren't acting like it."

"Because I was-... because I _am _their First!" she insisted.

"Exactly! You're their First and you're still bowing and scraping like you're afraid of being hit- wait, you aren't afraid of being hit, are you?" he asked, his face drawing in concern. She shook her head, waving her hand. The clan wasn't... gentle towards her, but they were hardly physically violent. "Well in that case I say you stomp in there, kiss your flat-eared mage right on his puckered mouth, and sit snug in between your best _shemlen _friend and your spirit from the Fade." _That was... oddly inspiring._

"I'm not from the Fade," Cole protested. "I hate it there." Dorian sighed.

"You missed the point, Cole, but all right. Your very helpful healing spirit friend- better?" he asked. Cole nodded, then turned to study the camp a little closer. Solas watched him absently, his arms folded over his chest. He looked mildly riotous, but she had no idea how to improve the situation. Dorian, sensing that she was at least going to try, trailed after Cole, carefully watching the aravels for signs of angry elves.

_"Ir abelas, vhenan," _she said finally, reaching out to try and smooth the dark anger that roiled on his face. She ran her hand against his arm, so violently warm that she almost worried for him- surely he would be faint if the heat were as bad as it felt? He let his shoulders drop and his arms relax, though he didn't reach out to touch her. "I'm sorry that... that they acted exactly how you told me they would." How had she never seen it? How had she lived in ignorance while her clan teased the flat-ears and lived in this wretched bubble of... _superiority. _How had she seen the wrongness of it all but never protested?

_"Ma serannas, da'vin. _Your clan's actions are not your own, but I am... glad that you can see the problem now," he said, putting his arms around her. It was oppressively hot but she didn't move, closing her eyes and letting him hold her. _Da'vin_ rolled around in her head and she grinned against him. "Saevin, were you... going to tell your Keeper that you and I are involved?" he asked quietly.

"I realized just as I said your name that I hadn't asked if it was all right with you, so I tried to... gracefully side-step until I asked," she told him, reaching just under his jacket to run her hands against his chest. He wasn't even sweating.

"Why would you have to ask me permission? Is it not implied when I share your tent at night?" he teased, kissing the very edge of her ear. It predictably turned red and twitched, which he had admitted never failed to amuse him.

"I just... thought you might like the choice," she said haltingly. She wasn't sure what she had thought, in truth. The visit to the clan was making her act strangely in altogether new ways, and she couldn't help but feel like she had back when Lavellan was her entire world. She felt small and embarrassing, and like everything she did was somehow _wrong_.

"I made my choice, _vhenan- u_nless you are concerned about what your clan will think of your involvement with a flat-ear..." he started, but she shook her head.

"No. If they don't like it they should get their heads out of their asses," she snapped. He laughed against her hair, pressing kisses to her head. He never failed to make her feel a little bit more in control of a situation just by paying attention to her. Between the _shem _she had to battle daily to prove not only the worth of herself, but the entire fucking Inquisition, and the way that she still felt like she had to prove her right to exist as an elf to her clan... sometimes having Solas' full attention no matter how pathetic she was made battling forward a bit easier.

"I am glad you feel that way," he said, pulling away from her. "I must be overheating you, Sae, you're wilting," he said, brushing his hand down her waist. She wiped self-consciously at her sweaty face and snorted, shrugging her shoulders and taking a few deep breaths. _You can do this. You can spend a few days with your clan and you can show them that you are beyond their low opinion._ "You're just as Dalish as the rest of them, Saevin. Whatever that means and whatever it implies, you can be sure that they cannot hold their 'elfiness' over you," he said, his voice holding the passion of a oft repeated argument. He didn't understand...

"I'm from Tevinter," she blurted. He obviously hadn't expected that response. "My mother and father were... not slaves, but pretty damn close. Or, that's what they tell me, I don't... I don't remember them well. My mother fled Tevinter after my father was killed in a riot. She found clan Lavellan just in time to drop from exhaustion and sickness. I was two and the clan raised me a-and renamed me. I had another name, a city name, but they gave me a proper Dalish... I don't know why I'm saying this." She shook her head a few times.

He was silent for a few moments, then reached out to hold her hand. "Do you remember the name your parents gave you?" he asked. She grinned in a way that made her face hurt.

"Caelia, but don't... don't use it. I've never... _told _anyone that, it's always been this... _thing _that I'm half ashamed of because we've fought slavers before and they're always Tevinter and it's always been this wall between me and everyone else. My name was Caelia and my mother's name was Valerie and... that's it. That's all I have left of that life," she said, her chest feeling heavy. "I just... I'm going to act strangely. And I can't help it, because they _can _lord their elfiness over me because no matter what I do I will _always _be a slave from Tevinter to them. I will always be the foundling slave that they took in and it won't matter if I become Keeper and lead them in a holy war against the _shemlen_, I will never be anything but an outsider." For once, she didn't cry. This issue was... beyond tears. She had known it from childhood when one of the nastier elders had referred to her as _the Vint,_ she had known it as a teenager when the few other mages in the clan had rebelliously challenged her right as First because _she wasn't born here, she isn't Dalish. _Dashana had said that she'd earned her place among them, but sometimes Sae wondered why she hadn't simply said that it didn't matter where Sae was born.

"This is not a poison you have to swallow to prove yourself, _vhenan. _Elves are not lesser for not being born into a Dalish clan-," He was positively fuming, so she cut him off.

"I know. I know that. Elves aren't, but _I _am. I can't explain it and I don't want to. I just... want to get through this and go home," she murmured. She wondered absently when Clan Lavellan had stopped being the home that she wanted to return to. "Please, let's just get through this."

He was stone faced when he finally nodded, taking her hand and pulling her over to where Dorian and Cole stood by the mouth of the camp.

Dhiris and Briva approached her a half a day after they had arrived to apologize. Apparently the clan had been beset by bandits recently, with city-born elves and humans alike. It had been putting everyone on edge as they got more and more adept at sneaking around camp and observing without being noticed. "And I shouldn't have said those things about your Inquisition," Briva had added. "You were one of the most devout of all of us, and it wasn't fair to imply otherwise."

Saevin accepted their apology as gracefully as possible, with the addition that they shouldn't use the term 'flat-ear' anymore. They didn't seem convinced as they strolled away to join the party around the bonfire, but they had politely offered to try. It was hardly a satisfactory ending, but she understood and appreciated their caution. She hadn't needed to ask why they had suspected _her _of bringing bandits into camp- she hadn't been the Tevinter runaway in a long time and felt the role settle against her shoulders like lead.

Dorian and Cole were being avoided like they carried a rare contagion. Cole had been reintroduced as her young rogue friend, an amateur healer and incredibly helpful, and now it was only the fact that he appeared human that was assuring him a wide berth. "They don't want my help," he said to her when she settled down beside him.

"They don't want anyone's," she said wearily. "If they were all drowning in the ocean they would refuse the tide's offer to abate so that they could breathe." She wondered how she had never noticed before, how stubborn her people were. "Has anyone been rude to you?" she asked.

"No one's spoken to me," he said with a careless shrug. "It doesn't matter. They're all afraid of us, even the Keeper. She's worried because she hasn't seen Solas in half an hour." _Come to think of it, neither have I. _

"Where is he, speaking of which?" she asked, looking around.

"He stands by himself," Cole said, pointing over to the edge of camp. Saevin could just barely make out his blurry figure hovering by the outskirts of the aravels. "He is unhappy, but he won't say anything. For once this isn't about him and the Dalish. He thinks of Caelia and what might have been." Her stomach turned.

"Thank-you, Cole. Are you going to be all right here?" she asked. He nodded.

"Dorian went to eat and said he would teach me to cheat at Wicked Grace when he came back," he said with a faint smile. She grinned back and nodded at Dorian, who with typical perfect timing, approached the two of them just as she rose to leave.

"Going already? I'm sharing my secrets to beating Josephine at cards," he said, gesturing for her to sit down. She smiled and shook her head.

"I'll take your advice the day you manage to actually beat her, Dorian. Stay out of trouble you two," she said, then slowly began to make her way over to Solas.

Darkness had fallen hours before and hovered around them, thick and almost tangible. The sky was obscured with heavy purple clouds that blotted out the light of the moon, making navigating the camp almost impossible. The bonfire still burned behind her eyes so she tread carefully, her arms outstretched into the damp air to feel for obstructions. She passed the halla enclosure and almost screamed when Clip-Clop leaned his enormous head down to nip at her as she staggered along. _"Fenedhis, _you big brute," she hissed, but stood up to kiss his head anyway. Confident in the knowledge that his every trespass was forgiven, Clip-Clop ambled away into the pen to go harrass Dorian's dark mare.

Solas stood and watched the darkness churn in front of him, beyond the camp. His stance was rigid and he had no light around him, though upon hearing her footsteps he conjured a little green-blue orb to float around them. _"Da'vin,"_ he greeted. The endearment, _little storm, _sent electricity pulsing down her arms and to the tip of her ears.

_"Vhenan._ You left the fire," she said, putting her arms around his waist from behind. He was so _tall _for an elf, though he had already told her that the Ancient Elves had been around his height. He smiled fondly and moved her arms so he could sit. She settled down beside him, flush against his side with her head against his shoulder while his arm wrapped around her and stroked languidly down her ribs.

"I did," he agreed, moving their orb of light to settle a bit closer to them. The change in position illuminated the statue of Fen'Harel, facing away from the bonfire and out into the dark night.

"Keeping the Dread Wolf company?" she asked with a smile. He snorted.

"You could say that, I suppose." He didn't offer any other explanation for his absence and she didn't press for information as his hand moved up to her hair. She loved the way his hands felt, rough from callouses caused by destructive magic, dry and cracked from what had to be years of work with ice and snow, but tough and hard from repeated burns across the meat of his palm and his fingertips. She often thought that those hands must be a product of who he was before, the hot-blood and cocky soldier that he had told Blackwall about. The Solas she knew oozed Spirit magic, his hands raising barriers instead of casting them down.

"I used to come out here too," she said nostalgically, her eyes glued to the statue. "Granted, I was eight years old and wanted to pet the puppy statue..." He laughed at that, which had been her goal. There had been an aura of anger pulsating around him since they'd found the camp, and she wanted to abate it in the same way he had tried to assure her of her 'elfiness'. "I got put in charge of moving the statue when we raised camp, since the Keeper became busy making sure that we didn't leave anything behind that could be used to track us. I think it was in part because I was the outsider, but I was so proud. I had a little wagon I would drag him along on, heavy as he is, and we would travel at the back of the procession together. I was probably ten at the time." He smiled.

"I'm sure he appreciated the attention. I never understood the concept of keeping a statue simply so you can point at it and tell it you hate it," he said, his voice heated. She shrugged, then lifted her head to look around. Hopefully her absence at the fire hadn't been noted.

"It's supposed to show our dedication to our gods, that we actively revile the beast that locked them away," she said, settling back down. He made one of his faces, where his nose would scrunch up and his eyes would narrow and _burn. _She'd spoken thoughtlessly again. "Did we get this wrong too?" she asked.

"The Dalish have gotten a great deal wrong, Saevin," he said simply. She ran her fingers down his chest, shutting her eyes. Sitting with him was the most relaxed she'd been all day and she felt ready to drop. "Do you... regret, not being Caelia?" he asked. She shook her head.

"Why bother? I don't know what Caelia was like. Sometimes I... think about what it would have been like to keep Valerie, though," she admitted quietly.

"As your name?"

"No. My mother," she whispered. Solas squeezed her shoulders. "I know I've said this already, but I really haven't told anyone that. I was made to... dislike it. Despise it. Who I was, who I had been, because it didn't fit in with everyone else's idea of what elves should be like. The fact that I had been in an alienage marked me with something undeniably human, and Caelia... she was as good as _shem. _Saevin was who I became and I've been trying to come to terms with that my whole life," she said softly, just for him to hear.

"I... think I understand better than you would expect,"he returned. She looked up at him and grinned, moving herself to sit on his lap. She didn't doubt that he understood- there was so much of him she didn't know about: his parents, his childhood, the village he grew up in, his experience with the Dalish. She could have hounded him with questions for a year and not known all that she wanted to know about his past, but what mattered was that he was _there. _He sat pressed against a heavy wooden box in front of the statue that had been her best childhood friend, holding her and ready to listen.

There was something impish in his eyes and around his lips as he brought her close to kiss her _deeply._ His hands moved predictably to cup her ass and she grunted against his mouth, shifting her hips to press against his. The orb of light went out abruptly and he switched positions, taking her wrists and pushing her down against the grass. He held her hands in place and sucked down her neck, leaving hot wet marks against the muscle on her shoulder and trailing his tongue back up to drag against the tip of her ear. Her back arched and she hooked her legs around him to bring him in close, his heat more welcome than it had been all day- his clothes, less so.

He released her hands and she immediately moved them to his jacket, pulling off the heaviest layer and reaching under the silken shirt he wore. His skin was hot as ever, burning like fire as he helped her shed the robes he wore. The belt was the hardest bit, intricate and tightly woven, but when they cast it aside it was much easier for him to move and suddenly much hotter than before. His fingers were like lava as he pressed them up her shirt to grope her breasts and she laughed out loud, moving him so she could sit against him face to face again. He allowed it, his fingers busy caressing her nipples while he bit her neck, whispering things in Elvish that sounded_ filthy _as his breathing grew raspy and hot. She moaned out his name as her breathing grew laboured, relenting easily as he pulled her shirt over her head to throw towards the statue that kept watch in the dark. He took her mouth again, eating the gasps that rolled off her tongue, and her hips rocked against him almost frantically. He grinned and growled, shoving her back into the grass again and parting her legs to settle himself in between them, sliding his hands _maddeningly _slowly up her thighs...

Her skin tightened as freezing shards of sharp, stabbing ice suddenly streaked against her skin, raising goosebumps and scalding her breasts. She shoved at Solas angrily, wondering what had possessed him to cast _ice _on her, when she noticed that he had been frozen as well. A large patch of blue-white ringed with red, irritated skin blossomed on his chest and he shivered, his head snapping up to find the source of the magic. She followed his gaze and felt her mouth go dry in horror.

Keeper Dashana scowled at them from the halla pen and Saevin felt the familiar red flush of humiliation prodding at her skin. She covered her chest as shame stirred in her stomach, sitting up to try and reclaim some dignity. She couldn't find the breast band she'd been wearing in the dark and it was becoming increasingly difficult not to burst into tears as her Keeper _glared_ at her. Solas pulled her towards him and offered her his shirt, which she gratefully slipped over her head. _"Serannas, vhenan," _she whispered. He kissed her forehead to try and comfort her, which would have worked much better in literally any other situation.

"Saevin, if you are quite done _rutting _your companion, I would have a word," the Keeper snapped, turning on her heel and stomping away in a flurry of robes. _Creators, _she'd never felt worse in her life. The guilt was especially bad considering she felt bad for having been caught with Solas. She had no reason to be as ashamed as she was, and the Keeper had no reason to be so angry, but... she was. Dashana had always told Sae that a Keeper had to conduct themselves with a degree of decorum, with an air of pureness and clarity. The First had never been able to imitate it, but she'd always failed by being childish and curious. This time she'd gone the whole nine yards.

"You're an adult, Sae. You don't have to feel badly about this," Solas said furiously, trying to gather their clothes. She tried to smile but it turned into a sniffling hiccup. She _knew _that, but it didn't serve to make her shoulders less heavy or her face less scarlet.

"What happened? We heard Saevin shou- oh," Dorian skidded to a stop with Cole hot on his heels, suddenly trying to look anywhere but at them. The torch he held wavered in his hand. "I see it was a good shout, then. Sorry to have... burst in, as it were."

"You didn't interrupt. Keeper Dashana already caught us," she said miserably, her voice wobbling.

"Is _that _why she came stomping into camp like bronto?" the Altus asked dryly, casting his eyes back towards camp. "I assume the reaction wasn't... good, then?" he asked.

"She froze us," Solas said flatly, finally casting another light orb to accompany the dim torchlight. He had put his jacket back on but seemed content to let Saevin keep his shirt, with the belt and her band folded neatly on top of each other. "Now I believe she has a lecture planned for her adult, consenting First."

"A lecture? _Maker _haven't we all been _there_ before?" He laughed and shook his head, handing the torch to Cole and moving to crouch next to Saevin. "Inquisitor, take it from someone who's been caught his his pants down before," he said.

"Literally?"

"The second two times were literal, the first time was a metaphor. Look, you know I have absolutely no interest in poking around whatever you and Solas are up to, but am I right when I say that it is a fairly regular occurrence? You aren't having someone else pop your cork for you?" he asked.

"No, and you sound like Bull," she said with a wavering grin. The look on his face was a conflict between horror and delight, and his laugh echoed it perfectly.

"Joy of all joys. Listen, you're a big girl, Saevin- metaphorically of course- and if you want to have a man pound you into the grass, then that's your decision. You weren't hurting anyone and I doubt she would have even noticed the two of you if she hadn't been looking. If she's upset about it then that's _her _problem," he said sternly. She exhaled evenly, trying to force that idea into her head. _It isn't my fault. Dashana is overreacting and it isn't my fault if she's angry at me._

"You're right," she admitted softly, shakily getting to her feet. "You're absolutely right, but I just... I never wanted to disappoint her." Dorian nodded sympathetically.

"We never do," he said, standing up and taking his light back from Cole.

She shook her head and gnawed at her thumbnail, turning to Solas. "We didn't do anything wrong," she said, hoping that perhaps if it was said enough then she would begin to feel it. He nodded, reaching out to pull her close again. She exhaled again as evenly as she could.

"Well, Cole and I are going to go back to the fire, since you two seem to have this well in hand." Dorian seemed eager to leave, obviously having exhausted his emotional involvement for the evening. She was grateful he chose to waste it on her, laughing quietly as he dragged Cole back towards the press of the Dalish like the Dread Wolf was on his heels.

"How do you feel?" Solas asked quietly.

"Mortified, still. The Keeper just caught me with my legs spread," she said, laughing a bit hysterically into his chest. He grinned, squeezing her waist.

"Do you think she'll come back if you take too long to show up?" he asked, his fingers brushing down the curve of her thigh. She shivered and moved them back to her hips.

"Unfortunately I do. We can make her angry by playing Wicked Grace with Cole and Dorian until she has to hunt us down again, though," she said, her grin turning playful. He smiled and took her hand, but she pulled away to move to the statue of Fen'Harel. "Sorry, just... give me a second. Just in case she banishes me, I want to get a good look at it," she said, her ears lowering a bit. He nodded, leaning casually up against the stack of boxes to watch her. She traced the lines of the statue, the familiar way the moss cracked the dry, brittle stone and little leaves from tiny plants burst from the broken white plaster on the Dread Wolf's neck. She snorted, patting his head like she used to when she was ten. "If he'd been facing the other way, he could have been a guard dog- warned us that she was coming," she said absently, hurrying back to him to pull him towards the bonfire.

"I think he was a little busy," Solas returned vaguely, following more eagerly than he ever expected himself to.


End file.
